


The Painful Truth

by VintageSkies



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Crossroads, Dreams, Eluvians, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Post-Break Up, Spoilers, The Eluvian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-03-16
Packaged: 2018-03-18 04:36:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3556262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VintageSkies/pseuds/VintageSkies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Solas tells Lavellan the truth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Painful Truth

“Please, vhenan. You must listen. I have something important to tell you.” He sits on the edge of the bed; his hands rest comfortably in his lap.

“Yes?” Aerys inches closer and tilts her head towards him. He looks straight ahead, his head neither held high nor drooping.

“I do not wish for your forgiveness, nor do I wish for your sympathy. I merely wish that you know the truth, and know that I did not keep it from you to harm you.”

“Solas?” She creases her brow and places a gentle hand atop his. Slowly, he turns to face her, and the words flow, impassive and low:

“I am Fen’harel. I am The Dread Wolf.”

“Surely, you’re joking,” she shakes her head. A smile coats her lips to disguise the shock, the confusion. “You’re…not joking, are you?” Her face sobers. She pulls her hand away and he does nothing to stop it.

“I would not joke about such things,” he adds softly, “vhenan.” She searches his features for any signs of jest, any twitch of emotion that may lead her to another possible answer, but there is none. Before her sits a man, a soul, with the weight of an ancient secret upon his shoulder. He kneels before her and offers it to her, head bowed, so they may carry it, together.

She sits, frozen, for a long while. Her head is spinning; this is all so much to take in. _Fen’harel? Him? Here?_ She becomes aware of a lightheadedness that is further irritated by the angry swarm of questions at the back of her mind. Her vision swims momentarily, but she is brought back into focus by a firm set of hands upon her shoulder.

“I should not have done this to you. I am sorry.” He lets his hands fall back to his lap, but his eyes linger. He stiffens, as if shifting the weight of his burden, and clenches his teeth. “I should go.”

“No!” She catches his wrist before he is able to stand completely. “Don’t go.” Their eyes meet and she can sense the desperation that he never shows; she can see it clawing just beneath the surface, hidden by those azure eyes. “Sit,” the word is so quiet he gathers the meaning from the shape of her lips and the tug of her hand instead.

Slowly, he lowers himself back on the edge of the bed. He remains silent.

“Just…explain this to me. I have so many questions,” she turns her body to face him and their knees nearly touch. “Help me understand.”

Solas closes his eyes briefly. He is afraid to open them, afraid she will disappear. But he does, and she is still there. With a sigh, he begins his tale. He tells her everything as best he can remember, pausing only to answer her questions that occur less frequently the longer he speaks.

When he is done, he looks down at his lap with his shoulders slouched. He always imagined it to be so much more cathartic, but instead, he finds himself lost in a renewed wave of shame, embarrassment, and anger.

Caught up in his emotions, an unusual moment indeed, he does not sense Aerys’s movement. She touches his chin with her forefinger and feels his body stiffen. Slowly, she applies pressure and raises his head to hers. Without a word, she leans in and presses her forehead to his.

“Solas…” she whispers, her voice hoarse from restrained tears.

“Vhenan,” he replies, his voice softer than hers and full of foreign emotion.

“I still love you,” she places her hand on his cheek; it is warm, reassuring. She will carry the burden with him; she is willing to risk it.

He closes his eyes and places his hand atop hers. For once, he finds himself at a loss for words. He struggles with the emotions flowing through him, freed from their dammed prison by her powerful words. He enjoys the darkness and the feel of her hand on his cheek regardless and finds himself oddly calm.

“Lathbora viran,” she says. Her words rattle the silence and he opens his eyes.

The light is more intense than he remembered it, and he must blink until his eyes adjust. As they begin to focus, he feels a growing knot in his abdomen. Where once he felt Aerys’ soothing touch, he feels nothing but the back of his own hand, half-asleep and cold as it’s pressed between his cheek and the harsh stone.

Slowly, he sits up, acutely aware of an old pain in his back from the uncomfortable rest and another in his heart, much more difficult to fix. Solas rests his arms on his knees and sighs, his head hung low. He never told her. She never knew. And she never would.

He sits like this for a while, staring into the foliage just beyond the stone pathway. He sits until he becomes numb to the throbbing pain of regret as he had done so many times before. With another sigh, he forces himself upwards and brushes off his clothes.

Everything aches, but he pushes himself forward. His muscles refuse to move properly; he must drag them onward. They wish to lay down and sleep for eternity, but he knows all too well the pain that can cause.

So, like a bird against the wind, he struggles onward, down the stone path and towards the towering Eluvian. His feet drag behind him and he hangs his head in complete disregard for his namesake. He looks up only at the sound of a familiar voice, the only voice capable of hurting him more than hers.

“I knew you would come.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Lathbora viran: Roughly translated as "the path to a place of lost love," a longing for a thing one can never really know.


End file.
